


Parental Cruelty

by ElenaCee



Series: Devil's Trap [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElenaCee/pseuds/ElenaCee
Summary: Lucifer receives a message from Dad. Chloe isn't too pleased.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All I wanted was to write a nice cuddle fic. This is what happened.

Chloe opened her eyes to near darkness and a warm feeling of contentment. Memory returned, and she smiled, rolling onto her side to face the Devil lying next to her.

It was one of the rare nights when she was able to stay here in Lucifer’s penthouse above Lux. Trixie was spending the weekend with her grandma - Chloe would probably have to do some damage control tomorrow -, and there was currently no case keeping her from, as Lucifer might put it, indulging in her desires.

And so she had; the whole day and evening and now night spent in his company; of her trying to teach him what it meant to be human while he did his level best to ease her out of the shell she had built around herself. It was the most fun she’d had in years, possibly her whole life.

Now, it was still dark outside, and as quiet as this part of LA would ever get. She was comfortable, not too warm, and feeling pleasantly heavy with sleep. So what had awoken her?

Whatever it was, now that she was awake, she was shamelessly going to use this opportunity to indulge in another of her desires, this one only recently acquired: watching Lucifer sleep.

Angels did sleep, he had explained when she asked. Celestials were living beings, and God’s creatures, just like humans and animals. All of God’s creatures needed to eat, sleep, and do all the other things necessary to stay alive and healthy. Such as having sex, of course (she had rolled her eyes at that). Being immortal simply meant that you would keep doing all these things for a very long time. Eons. Eternity.

To her delight, she found him deeply asleep. At some point during the night, he had rolled onto his back and was now presenting her his strong profile. She spent some delicious minutes tracing it with her eyes; the strong arch of his nose and chin, the sweep of his thick lashes, simply enjoying this quiet time, listening to him breathing slowly and evenly through his nose.

It was comfortable, and almost beginning to feel familiar.

But then, things changed. As she watched him breathe, the soothing rhythm faltered; he arched his back, his mouth opened, and he made a soft sound.

It wasn’t a good sound.

His formerly relaxed features contorted into an expression she had never seen on his face before, full of raw agony, and then he made that sound again.

Hesitantly, Chloe reached out a hand, wondering whether she should wake him. It probably was just a - -

He shot half upright with a shout, an inhuman cry that sounded like an animal roar more than anything, eyes wide open, staring at nothing, and even though she wasn’t looking at them directly, she could see that they were blazing red.

Chloe recoiled, startled.

Again he screamed, fists clenched into the sheets, head thrown back, muscles and tendons thrown in stark relief, highlighted in the dim light coming in through the windows. She could feel the bed shake with the force of his muscles clenching and unclenching with his fury.

Never had she been scared of him before, but now, it took all her willpower to stay where she was. “Lucifer!” she said intently, trying to break through whatever he was seeing and to make him realize where he was, that everything was okay, and that he was safe.

He turned his head towards the sound of her voice, eyes still glowing, mouth open, teeth bared, face distorted into a grimace of rage and despair. He looked so out of control that she half expected him to shift into his Devil form because his human form surely could not contain his wrath, but then his eyes found hers, and he made another sound, not quite a sob, more like a cry of pain. The fire in his eyes cooled abruptly, and the fury on his face gave way to a peculiar mixture of relief and agony.

“Chloe…” It was barely intelligible.

Before she could say another word, he had thrown himself on top of her, pulling her down with him, wrapping his arms around her, one leg across both of hers, completely enveloping her smaller body in his long limbs, holding her close, as close as he could, his head pressed against hers, his face buried against her neck, and making those pained sounds with every exhalation, again and again. Shaking so hard that it jarred her teeth.

Instinctively, she kept still and simply let him do what he needed to do. Not that she had a choice; he was holding her immobile, all hard, tense muscles and barely contained strength and hot, panting breaths that sounded like they were forced out of him. Like he was in physical pain.

Every fiber of her being went out to him. She knew about nightmares, had experienced them herself, had soothed her daughter through them after Malcolm. But she hadn’t known that angels could have them as well.

For long minutes, he kept pulling her closer and closer to his tense body in a helpless rhythm, shaking like someone suffering a seizure, drawing in her smell which each breath and making those heart-wrenching agonized noises on each exhale.

After a while, she thought she could understand words in his half-sobs. No, just one word, repeated over and over. Her name.

Her heart clenched in realization.

 _I’ll curse you to make you feel his pain_ , Maze had said. The pain of losing her. This pain.

That was what he must have dreamed. Losing her.

She tried talking to him then, telling him again and again that she was here, that she was safe, that it had just been a dream, that it hadn’t really happened. She didn’t know whether he could hear her; he kept moaning her name, apparently as unable to let go of her as he was to free himself from the echoes of whatever it was he had seen in his dream.

But finally, by increments, she could feel him grow calmer and the tension in his muscles relax bit by bit. He went from fast panting breaths to slower, shuddering ones; the shaking eased to a sustained shivering, and his agonized noises quieted at last.

After a while, she dared to worm one arm out from where it had been pressed between their bodies, snaking it around his shoulder and putting her hand against the back of his neck. “Lucifer,” she said softly, stroking the warm skin and the fine hairs there. “C’mon, look at me.”

It took another minute, but finally, he raised his head off her shoulder. His face was a battlefield;  wet with tears, eyes reddened from crying, lips trembling. Now, it was her pulling him close, wanting nothing more than to erase that look and take all his pain away. He sighed, going limp in her arms, giving himself over at last.

She ran one hand up and down his back and let her other one cup and stroke the back of his neck, soothing him, while his breathing slowed further to something approaching normal.

“Must’ve been some dream,” she said after a while, when the silence had stretched on for a bit.

He half sobbed, half chortled.

Encouraged, she kissed the top of his head, continuing her gentle caresses. She could still feel him shiver, and she wondered whether angels could go into shock.

“Angels don’t dream,” he said into her neck, almost answering her thoughts. His voice was rough from screaming. Then he raised his head to look at her. “It was a message.” He let his head fall back against the pillow in an attitude of irritated exhaustion, finally looking a bit more like himself again.

She liked that much better than the soul-wrenching despair of earlier. Smiling in relief, she framed his face with both her hands, stroking her thumbs back and forth across his temples.

He let his eyes close under her ministrations, his tense expression smoothing out to one of pure enjoyment.

Chloe experienced a moment of surreal realization. All she was doing was caressing him, and yet it had such a visible healing effect. He was so clearly still not used to being touched with gentleness, something so ordinary and so simple, something that even animals easily shared. At the same time, she loved that she was able to affect him so deeply, so easily.

“A message,” she echoed. “From…?”

“Dad, yes.” He opened his eyes again to find hers. “Well, more like a warning. This is what happens if - -. Well.”

She leaned closer. “If what, Lucifer? Tell me, please.”

He looked wounded to his core. “If I lose you.” He gave another half laugh half sob. “As if I hadn’t known that already, thank you ever so much, Dad.”

The flame of rage that kindled in her gut surprised her with its intensity. “That… is so low.”

He nodded wordlessly.

She found that she needed to move. Her rage needed an outlet, so she untangled herself, swung her legs to the floor to get up and began to pace.

“Seriously?” she said, directing her words to the ceiling. “What the _hell_ , God?”

Lucifer, still in the bed, gave an amused snort.

But she was only beginning to pick up speed. “I don’t know if this is the proper way to go about this, God, but that was such a _dick move_ just now that I don’t even know where to begin. I mean, You _made_ me just for your son, right, made me for him to _fall in love_ with, and now, when he has barely begun to trust that this is real, You send him a fucking vision of it all _ending_?”

There was no response. She hadn’t really expected one. “What the fuck is that supposed to accomplish except to spoil the time we have together? Do You have any idea how much You’ve _hurt_ him right now?!” By then, her voice had risen to a yell.

But she wasn’t finished yet. “He was Your _favorite son_ , God! I get that you had your disagreements, but let me tell You this: You _never, ever,_ deliberately hurt your child like that, no _matter_ how estranged, and no _matter_ what you think he’s done! It’s _cruel_ , and despicable! Mysterious ways, my ass! Parental cruelty is a _felony_ , and if You were down here, I’d do my level best to get You in _jail_ for this!”

She wanted to shake her fists at the Heavens, but at last she realized the kind of spectacle she was probably making of herself, ranting at an invisible deity like this, so she stopped.

“Bravo, Detective,” Lucifer said from behind her, with the barest echo of his usual glee in his voice. “If anyone could actually do that, it’s you. Pity that none of it will change a bloody thing.”

She turned to see him sitting cross-legged on the bed, managing somehow to look small and fragile for all his broad-shouldered, towering physique. “Well, it should,” she said, still seething. “Your dad sucks at parenting. I totally would tell Him so to His face.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I’ve been yelling some variation or other on that theme in His general direction for eons. I guess if you are the most powerful being in all creation it tends to render you indifferent.”

“Well, it’s not fair.” She joined him on the bed, her rage evaporating to leave behind the familiar need to be close to her Devil. “You deserve so much better, Lucifer.” She put her arms around him, making a sound of contentment when she felt him return the hug.

“Pretty sure I don’t deserve you,” he said, so softly that she almost didn’t hear him.

“Shut up.”

To her surprise, he did.

They sat like that for long minutes, entwined in one another. Chloe continued to silently rant at God for a bit and finally decided that enough was enough. “Do you think you can go back to sleep?” she softly asked him when she felt him begin to slump against her.

He heaved a sigh. “I’m not too keen on an encore of that particular dream theater performance, no. But you should definitely get some more shuteye, considering that I robbed you of at least an hour of sleep.”

She saw her chance. “Okay, but only if you stay in here with me. No brooding at your piano. And definitely no drinking while I’m near you.”

He immediately went for the puppy dog look. “But it’s so much more fun when I can actually get drunk.”

She grimaced. That look was lethal, even though she’d had a lot of practice with Trixie. Okay, change of tactics. “Lucifer, there’s only so many nights we can actually spend together, and when we do get the chance, I want my Devil to be all warm and cuddly with me in bed and not at the bar making love to a bottle.”

He looked at her as though he couldn’t believe that she’d just said that. “ _Cuddly?_ ” he finally echoed, sounding so scandalized that she burst out laughing.

“C’mon, my fearsome Prince of Darkness. Just until I’m asleep. After that you can do whatever.”

“All right,” he replied formally as if making a deal, “I’ll let you cuddle with me until you sleep.”

That had been way too easy. Amused, she lay back down, holding out her arm, and they shuffled arms and legs until they were both comfortable, with her head on his shoulder and his arms around her. “It’s okay to want to cuddle, you know,” she said softly, snuggling into him. “It doesn’t diminish you in the slightest, no matter what Maze would say.”

He huffed, inadvertently blowing half a lungful of hot air across her face. “I would never hear the end of it.”

“I’ve got a photo of her and Trixie cuddling on the sofa,” she whispered conspiratorially, relaxing in the warmth he radiated. “It’s yours to use if you need it.”

She could feel him turn his head to bury his lips in her hair. “You minx.”

They lay quietly, and finally, Chloe could feel him go limp and fall asleep.

She lay awake for a while longer, guarding his sleep, and only when he had lain for about half an hour without any sign of the dream returning did she allow herself to follow him.


End file.
